In Chapter Six Wright lays out the biblical answer to “What is God’s purpose for creation?” in contrast to the popular options explored in chapter five: evolutionary optimism (EO) and souls in transit (SIT).  In summary, Wright argues that the early Christians did not believe the world was getting better and better on its own steam (EO) or that it was getting worse and worse and their task was to escape it (SIT).  Instead, early Christians believed “that God was going to do for the whole cosmos was he had done for Jesus at Easter.”

Wright shows three themes from Paul and from the book of Revelation which point to a true Christian hope.  First, the goodness of creation.  Christians refused to believe in creation as anything less than good and God-given.  They did not, however, believe that God was a part of creation – rather creation reflects his glory. 

Second, the nature of evil.  Evil is real and powerful but “it consists neither in the fact of being created nor in the fact of being other than God nor in being transient.  That is, something is not evil merely because it is created, or because it is not divine, or because it decays over time.  In fact, “Transience acts as a God-given signpost pointing not from the material world to a non-material world but from the world as it is to the world as it is meant to be–pointing, in other words, from the present to the future that God has in store.”

Third, the plan of redemption.  “Redemption doesn’t mean scrapping what’s there and starting again from a clean slate but rather liberating what has come to be enslaved.  And because of the analysis of evil not as materiality but as rebellion, the slavery of humans and of the world does not consist in embodiment, redemption from which would mean the death of the body and the consequent release of the soul or spirit.  The slavery consists, rather, in sin, redemption from which must ultimately involve not just goodness of soul or spirit but a newly embodied life.”

Thus, “Redemption is not simply making creation a bit better, as the optimistic evolutionist would try to suggest.  Nor is it rescuing spirits and souls from an evil material world, as the Gnostic would want to say.  It is the remaking of creation, having dealt with the evil that is defacing and distorting it.”

Wright closes by exploring six themes/images from the New Testament that speak of the cosmic dimension of Christian hope.

1. Seedtime and Harvest (1 Cor. 15) – Jesus’ resurrection is the firstfruits – the first if many.
2. Victorious Battle (1 Cor. 15) – Every force and authority and the cosmos will be subjected to the Messiah.
3. Citizens of Heaven, Colonizing the Earth (Phil. 3) – to be called “citizens of heaven” doesn’t mean we are done with this life and we’ll be leaving the earth to go live in heaven.  It means Jesus will come from heaven to earth to transform our bodies to be like his.
4. God Will Be All in All (1 Cor. 15) – The ultimate goal is for God to fill all creation with his own presence and love; to fill the earth with knowledge of himself (Is. 11).  “…the world is beautiful not just because it hauntingly reminds us of its creator but also because it is pointing forward: it is designed to be filled, flooded, drenched in God…”
5. New Birth (Rom. – God doesn’t throw away what he’s made; rather something new is born (reborn) from it.
6. Marriage of Heaven and Earth (Rev. 21-22) – It is not we who go to heaven, it is heaven that comes to earth.  The final goal is not the separation of heaven and earth, but the uniting of heaven and earth.  Heaven and earth are “radically different, but they are made for each other in the same way…as male and female.  And when they finally come together, that will be cause for rejoicing in the way way that a wedding is…”

In Chapter Four Wright explores “the strange story of Easter.”  He begins by drawing attention to four “strange” features of the Gospels’ resurrection stories which compel us to take them as very early accounts rather than later inventions. 

First, the resurrection narratives in the Gospels are almost absent of allusions to or quotes from the Old Testament, unlike the rest of the Gospels’ story.  Unlike Paul or other church writers, they do not quote Psalms or the prophets in trying to explain the resurrection.  This suggests they were written very early.  Had the Gospel story of the resurrection been fabricated, it likely would have included Old Testament quotes and allusions.

Second, the Gospels present women as the principal witnesses to the resurrection.  In the ancient world, women were not regarded as credible witnesses.  Yet the Gospels present women as the first witnesses.  Had the Gospel resurrection story been made up, women would not be featured so prominently.

Third, had the Gospel story been fabricated, it’s likely that the risen Jesus would have been described as shining like a star.  This is how Daniel’s prophecy would have likely been interrpreted.  Yet in the Gospels, the risen Jesus “appears as a human being with a body that in some ways is quite normal and can be mistaken for a gardener or a fellow traveler on the road.”

Fourth, none of the Gospel’s stories of the resurrection attempt to tie the story to the future Christian hope.  They never say anything like “Jesus is raised, therefore there is life after death” or “Jesus is raised, therefore we shall go to heaven when we die.”  Had the resurrection story been fabricated, such a link would have likely been included.  In the Gospels, the resurrection “has a very this-worldly, present-age meaning: Jesus is raised, so he is the Messiah, and therefore he is the world’s true Lord; Jesus is raised, so God’s new creation has begun–and we, his followers, have a job to do!”

How do we account for the existence of this early story of resurrection?  We are compelled to believe that 1) Jesus’ tomb really was empty, and 2) Jesus disciples really did encounter him in ways that convinced them he was not just a ghost or hallucination.  Wright goes on to show the weaknesses of alternate theories to the resurrection (e.g., the disciples had a hallucination/vision, Jesus didn’t really die; the disciples met someone they thought was the resurrected Jesus; Jesus only appeared to people who believed in him; the accounts are biased; etc.)

Finally, Wright takes on the argument that the resurrection could not have happened because we “know” that things like this do not happen.  Such an assertion is based on a worldview and is not merely based on “objective” science.  The resurrection requires embracing a new worldview.  Precisely because it was such a unique, unexpected, and extraordinary event, the resurrection requires a new worldview in order to be embraced.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/djking/147355443/

One thing I know for sure, LORD: your passion for people perseveres.

It was your passion for people that drove you to make humankind and build our cosmic-home in the first place.

It was your passion for people that compelled you choose and champion a nation who would bless all nations.

It is your passion for people that activates your giving me the food on my plate this morning.

We’ve stabbed you, scorned you, and saddened you.  At times we’ve given up on you.  We even tried to kill you.  But your love lingered.

One thing I know for sure, LORD: your passion for people perseveres.

I mention Prothero’s book not to raise the question of whether or not Christian texts or other religious texts should be taught in public schools.  I mention it to illustrate the fact that we live in a culture where a vast number do not have even a cursory understanding of the Christian faith or of any faith.

Because of this, I’ve committed this year to two quarterly initiatives.  First, each quarter I will offer a two-week Sunday School break-out session called “Storytime.”  “Storytime” is an opportunity to explore and invite friends to explore the Christian story.  The next Storytime will be Sundays April 12, 19.  Second, each quarter I will preach a message that provides a basic understanding of the Christian faith.  This morning’s message is one of those.

One way to sum up the Bible is with the image of an “altar.”  Whether through literature we’ve read, paintings we’ve seen, or television or movies we’ve watched, most of us probably have some familiarity with the idea of an altar—a sacred object upon which people present offerings—sacrifices—to a god. 

For example last February archeologists in Greece were studying an altar to the Greek god Zeus on Mount Lykaion. [ii]  The New York Times carried the story.  Archeologists found on Mount Lykaion a place there where ancient people would present their offerings to Zeus.  But as the archeologists dug deeper, they found ashes, bones, and evidence of animal sacrifices that were presented to an even older god.  The altar they found under Zeus’ altar dates to 3000 B. C.  On that same spot on Mount Lykaion people had been presenting offerings to the gods since 3000 B. C.  And most of us can make sense of a report like that.  We understand the idea of an offering on an altar.

Altar or offering is one image which writers of the Bible used to summarize the Christian faith.  Paul writes this in Rom. 12:1: 1 Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is true worship. (Rom. 12:1 TNIV).  Romans is a letter written by a Christian preacher named Paul.  Like some of the other documents in the New Testament it is named for the readers—those to whom Paul wrote.

The verse I just read comes at an important place in this letter.  It is a hinge around which the letter turns.  Generally everything just before this verse has been an explanation of what Paul calls here, “God’s mercy.”  Paul wrote chapters 1 – 11 to explain “God’s mercy.”  Generally everything after this verse is an exploration of what Paul calls here, “offer[ing] your bodies as a living sacrifice…”  If chapters 1 – 11 explain “God’s mercy,” then chapters 12-16 explain our response to God’s mercy.  Here’s another way of looking at this: Romans 1 – 11 explain what God did and Romans 12 – 16 explain what we do in response. 

And what we do is summarized by the image of altar/ offering/ sacrifice.  If you want one image to summarize what it means to be a Christian, this is it—the image of altar/ offering/ sacrifice.  We’ll return to this later. 

For most of our time this morning, I want us to focus on what God does.  One place in Romans 1-11 where Paul summarizes “God’s mercy”—that is, what God does—is in Rom. 3:25: God presented Christ as a sacrifice of atonement, through the shedding of his blood—to be received by faith. (Rom. 3:25 TNIV).  The images used in this text are almost identical to the images used in Rom. 12:

Thus, Paul summarizes what God does with this image: altar/ offering/ sacrifice.  If you want one image to summarize what God does according to the Christian faith it is this: altar/ offering/ sacrifice. 

What is unusual about this image is that it reversed conventional thinking about offerings.  Paul lived in a culture where there were many religions and most included the idea of a person offering a sacrifice to appease the gods for something the person did wrong.  The average person on the street believed that when you did something wrong, it made the gods angry.  And the best way to resolve that anger was to offer a sacrifice.  The fancy word for that was “propitiation.”  The sacrifice “propitiated” or “turned aside” the anger of the gods.  That’s the word Paul uses here.

But here’s the bad news about altar, offering, or sacrifice.  First they were never enough.  Speaker Rob Bell illustrates this in his presentation called “The God’s Aren’t Angry.”[iii]  Something goes wrong, you misbehave—and it’s time for a sacrifice.  People did it in ancient Mesopotamia, ancient Israel, and ancient Rome.  And one problem was that you never really knew if you had sacrificed enough.  If you made the gods angry and you offered a sacrifice, you never quite knew if it was enough.

Some of us have experienced this in our spiritual lives.  We’re never quite sure if we’ve done enough to make up for wrong things that we’ve done.  For example, when I was in college I struggled with sexual immorality.  There were weekends when I would choose to be sexually impure and then wake up Sunday morning or Monday morning and realize that God must be very angry with me.  So I would spend the next three or four days offering sacrifices to make it up to God—I would read lots of Scripture, I would pray more than usual, I would invite people to the mid-week evangelistic Bible study, and I would volunteer to help with some project in the campus ministry.  All of it was a kind of offering to turn aside God’s wrath.  But I never really knew for sure if I had done enough.

Some of us experience something similar to this in our secular lives.  Despair, Inc. provides what they call “demotivators.”  This demotivator is called “Sacrifice.”  It shows an ancient Aztec temple on which human sacrifices would have been offered to the gods.  It’s a picture meant to be hung at the office.  And the tag line says, “All We Ask Here Is That You Give Us Your Heart.”  So many things in life—like our jobs—require us to sacrifice so much, and it never seems enough.

But there was a second problem with the ancient altar, offering, or sacrifice.  Not only was it never enough.  But it was never ending.  You were caught in a never-ending cycle of trying to do right, doing wrong, and then having to go to the altar to present the offering.  You were condemned to a lifetime of offerings because as large as the last sacrifice was, it only dealt with the previous transgression.  Today, there’s a new transgression.  There was a never-ending need for offerings.

Some of us still experience this in our spiritual lives.  I remember a woman I’ll call Betty.  She wanted to follow Jesus.  She wanted to be a Christian.  But there was one particular behavior she was wrestling with.  She was attracted to a coworker and found herself constantly having thoughts she shouldn’t have.  She’d repent, attend some church services, feel better, but then stumble again.  This went on for weeks.  And finally, she just gave up.  She didn’t want to continue this cycle.  So, she dropped out of church and gave in to her desires. 

But here’s the twist of the Christian faith.  In the Christian faith, God makes the offering.  God himself presents the sacrifice.  Did you notice who’s making the sacrifice in Rom. 3?  It’s not a person.  It’s God.  Paul writes earlier that God is angry.  He never intended the world to be like this.  He never intended your life to be like this.  It disturbs him to see the war, the scandals, the poverty, the corruption, the lies, the betrayals, the abuse, and the unfaithfulness.  But the Christian faith is not just another flavor of all those ancient religions which require us to make some offering to appease the angry gods.  The Christian faith turns that upside down.  The angry God offers his own sacrifice, his Son, himself.  The Christian God is more interested in peace and relationship with us than another sacrifice from us.  So God makes the sacrifice.

And because he makes the sacrifice it is more than enough.  And, it is the end.  It’s more than we could ever sacrifice.  It’s so much more that it’s the end of all sacrifice.  It is a one-time once-and-for-all offering which forever ends this altar-system.

This amazing twist is still reflected in the terminology used in many Christian traditions.  In many ancient places of worship, like a temple to an ancient Greco-Roman god, there would be an altar.  But it would be the place where you would place your offering.  In the Christian faith, there was also an altar at the place of worship.  But it represented God placing his offering, his sacrifice.  Beginning around the 3^rd century A. D. the table on which the communion was placed was called an “altar.”[iv]  Each Sunday we gather around the altar, not to make our sacrifice, but to celebrate his.  The reason Christians gather each Sunday is to celebrate the fact that there’s nothing left to offer.  There’s nothing left for us to sacrifice.  We’ve been freed from this system.

But what then do we do with Paul’s call in Rom. 12: 1 Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is true worship.  In the Christian faith what we do comes after what God has done.  We do not give our offering in order to get something from God.  We give our offering because God’s already given his to us.  Too many people assume Christianity is about what we offer or sacrifice in order to get saved, or get heaven, or get forgiveness, or get help.  People assume we have to do Romans 12-16 and then we get Romans 1-11.  But the truth is just the opposite.  What God does comes first.  Only then do we respond with our offering. 

The word translated “true” as in “true worship” is literally the word “reasonable.”  Paul is saying that in light of what God’s done, it is only reasonable that we would respond in kind.  It only makes sense, now that God has offered us himself, for us to offer him ourselves.  That’s why Paul pictures the Christian life as an offering.  It’s us climbing on the altar and saying with gratitude, “Because you’ve given me yourself, I now give you myself.”

Last Sunday Larry McKenzie marked forty years of ministry at the Highland Church of Christ.  We’ll be celebrating that anniversary, along with Jim Chester’s 40^th anniversary in a few weeks.  For four decades Larry has been studying the Bible with non Christians, teaching evangelism courses, leading prayer seminars, traveling the world to do mission work and encouraging missionaries, writing articles on Christian living, visiting people in the hospital, conducting weddings and funerals, getting up early and staying up late.  He has laid himself on the altar for us for forty years.  And I’ll bet if you asked him why, he would say it’s because of what God did on his altar.  God gave himself to Larry.  Larry’s given himself back to God.

Every Sunday for the past few months two families at Highland have left the worship service about halfway through the service.  They don’t leave because they are mad.  They leave so they can conduct worship services at a nearby assisted-living facility.  They sacrifice worshiping with their friends and family here in order to lead worship for about thirty older adults who are shut-in.  I’ll bet if you asked them why, they would say it’s because of what God did on his altar.  God gave himself to them.  They are simply giving themselves back to God.

But here’s the twist: once we get on the altar, God says, “That is very pleasing.  But, I’m not going to keep you for myself.  I’m going to take you, this offering you’ve given to me, and I’m going to give it to others.”  That’s what the verses after Rom. 12:1-2 go on to describe.  Paul moves immediately into statements about how we are to serve others, help others, and support others.  This is his ultimate example of what it means to offer ourselves to God.  Paul is saying that God takes our offering of ourselves and gives it to others.  We best offer ourselves to God when we offer ourselves to others.  That’s the sum of the Christian life.

And where does all this begin?  According to Paul, it begins in baptism.  Baptism is where God’s offering and our offering come together.  Here’s what Paul writes in Rom. 6:  We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.  5 If we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly also be united with him in a resurrection like his. 6 For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin— 7 because anyone who has died has been set free from sin.   (Rom. 6:4-7 TNIV)  In baptism God’s offering—the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus—and our offering—our own death, burial, and resurrection—come together.  In baptism we both receive God’s offering and give our offering.  Just a few verses later Paul describes it in just this way: 13 Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life.  (Rom. 6:13 TNIV).  Baptism is where we receive God’s offering and where our offering begins.

I mention Prothero’s book not to raise the question of whether or not Christian texts or other religious texts should be taught in public schools.  I mention it to illustrate the fact that we live in a culture where a vast number do not have even a cursory understanding of the Christian faith or of any faith.

Because of this, I’ve committed this year to two quarterly initiatives.  First, each quarter I will offer a two-week Sunday School break-out session called “Storytime.”  “Storytime” is an opportunity to explore and invite friends to explore the Christian story.  The next Storytime will be Sundays April 12, 19.  Second, each quarter I will preach a message that provides a basic understanding of the Christian faith.  This morning’s message is one of those.

One way to sum up the Bible is with the image of an “altar.”  Whether through literature we’ve read, paintings we’ve seen, or television or movies we’ve watched, most of us probably have some familiarity with the idea of an altar—a sacred object upon which people present offerings—sacrifices—to a god. 

For example last February archeologists in Greece were studying an altar to the Greek god Zeus on Mount Lykaion. [2]  The New York Times carried the story.  Archeologists found on Mount Lykaion a place there where ancient people would present their offerings to Zeus.  But as the archeologists dug deeper, they found ashes, bones, and evidence of animal sacrifices that were presented to an even older god.  The altar they found under Zeus’ altar dates to 3000 B. C.  On that same spot on Mount Lykaion people had been presenting offerings to the gods since 3000 B. C.  And most of us can make sense of a report like that.  We understand the idea of an offering on an altar.

Altar or offering is one image which writers of the Bible used to summarize the Christian faith.  Paul writes this in Rom. 12:1: 1 Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is true worship. (Rom. 12:1 TNIV).  Romans is a letter written by a Christian preacher named Paul.  Like some of the other documents in the New Testament it is named for the readers—those to whom Paul wrote.

The verse I just read comes at an important place in this letter.  It is a hinge around which the letter turns.  Generally everything just before this verse has been an explanation of what Paul calls here, “God’s mercy.”  Paul wrote chapters 1 – 11 to explain “God’s mercy.”  Generally everything after this verse is an exploration of what Paul calls here, “offer[ing] your bodies as a living sacrifice…”  If chapters 1 – 11 explain “God’s mercy,” then chapters 12-16 explain our response to God’s mercy.  Here’s another way of looking at this: Romans 1 – 11 explain what God did and Romans 12 – 16 explain what we do in response. 

And what we do is summarized by the image of altar/ offering/ sacrifice.  If you want one image to summarize what it means to be a Christian, this is it—the image of altar/ offering/ sacrifice.  We’ll return to this later. 

For most of our time this morning, I want us to focus on what God does.  One place in Romans 1-11 where Paul summarizes “God’s mercy”—that is, what God does—is in Rom. 3:25: God presented Christ as a sacrifice of atonement, through the shedding of his blood—to be received by faith. (Rom. 3:25 TNIV).  The images used in this text are almost identical to the images used in Rom. 12:

Thus, Paul summarizes what God does with this image: altar/ offering/ sacrifice.  If you want one image to summarize what God does according to the Christian faith it is this: altar/ offering/ sacrifice. 

What is unusual about this image is that it reversed conventional thinking about offerings.  Paul lived in a culture where there were many religions and most included the idea of a person offering a sacrifice to appease the gods for something the person did wrong.  The average person on the street believed that when you did something wrong, it made the gods angry.  And the best way to resolve that anger was to offer a sacrifice.  The fancy word for that was “propitiation.”  The sacrifice “propitiated” or “turned aside” the anger of the gods.  That’s the word Paul uses here.

But here’s the bad news about altar, offering, or sacrifice.  First they were never enough.  Speaker Rob Bell illustrates this in his presentation called “The God’s Aren’t Angry.”[3]  Something goes wrong, you misbehave—and it’s time for a sacrifice.  People did it in ancient Mesopotamia, ancient Israel, and ancient Rome.  And one problem was that you never really knew if you had sacrificed enough.  If you made the gods angry and you offered a sacrifice, you never quite knew if it was enough.

Some of us have experienced this in our spiritual lives.  We’re never quite sure if we’ve done enough to make up for wrong things that we’ve done.  For example, when I was in college I struggled with sexual immorality.  There were weekends when I would choose to be sexually impure and then wake up Sunday morning or Monday morning and realize that God must be very angry with me.  So I would spend the next three or four days offering sacrifices to make it up to God—I would read lots of Scripture, I would pray more than usual, I would invite people to the mid-week evangelistic Bible study, and I would volunteer to help with some project in the campus ministry.  All of it was a kind of offering to turn aside God’s wrath.  But I never really knew for sure if I had done enough.

Some of us experience something similar to this in our secular lives.  Despair, Inc. provides what they call “demotivators.”  This demotivator is called “Sacrifice.”  It shows an ancient Aztec temple on which human sacrifices would have been offered to the gods.  It’s a picture meant to be hung at the office.  And the tag line says, “All We Ask Here Is That You Give Us Your Heart.”  So many things in life—like our jobs—require us to sacrifice so much, and it never seems enough.

But there was a second problem with the ancient altar, offering, or sacrifice.  Not only was it never enough.  But it was never ending.  You were caught in a never-ending cycle of trying to do right, doing wrong, and then having to go to the altar to present the offering.  You were condemned to a lifetime of offerings because as large as the last sacrifice was, it only dealt with the previous transgression.  Today, there’s a new transgression.  There was a never-ending need for offerings.

Some of us still experience this in our spiritual lives.  I remember a woman I’ll call Betty.  She wanted to follow Jesus.  She wanted to be a Christian.  But there was one particular behavior she was wrestling with.  She was attracted to a coworker and found herself constantly having thoughts she shouldn’t have.  She’d repent, attend some church services, feel better, but then stumble again.  This went on for weeks.  And finally, she just gave up.  She didn’t want to continue this cycle.  So, she dropped out of church and gave in to her desires. 

But here’s the twist of the Christian faith.  In the Christian faith, God makes the offering.  God himself presents the sacrifice.  Did you notice who’s making the sacrifice in Rom. 3?  It’s not a person.  It’s God.  Paul writes earlier that God is angry.  He never intended the world to be like this.  He never intended your life to be like this.  It disturbs him to see the war, the scandals, the poverty, the corruption, the lies, the betrayals, the abuse, and the unfaithfulness.  But the Christian faith is not just another flavor of all those ancient religions which require us to make some offering to appease the angry gods.  The Christian faith turns that upside down.  The angry God offers his own sacrifice, his Son, himself.  The Christian God is more interested in peace and relationship with us than another sacrifice from us.  So God makes the sacrifice.

And because he makes the sacrifice it is more than enough.  And, it is the end.  It’s more than we could ever sacrifice.  It’s so much more that it’s the end of all sacrifice.  It is a one-time once-and-for-all offering which forever ends this altar-system.

This amazing twist is still reflected in the terminology used in many Christian traditions.  In many ancient places of worship, like a temple to an ancient Greco-Roman god, there would be an altar.  But it would be the place where you would place your offering.  In the Christian faith, there was also an altar at the place of worship.  But it represented God placing his offering, his sacrifice.  Beginning around the 3^rd century A. D. the table on which the communion was placed was called an “altar.”[4]  Each Sunday we gather around the altar, not to make our sacrifice, but to celebrate his.  The reason Christians gather each Sunday is to celebrate the fact that there’s nothing left to offer.  There’s nothing left for us to sacrifice.  We’ve been freed from this system.

But what then do we do with Paul’s call in Rom. 12: 1 Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is true worship.  In the Christian faith what we do comes after what God has done.  We do not give our offering in order to get something from God.  We give our offering because God’s already given his to us.  Too many people assume Christianity is about what we offer or sacrifice in order to get saved, or get heaven, or get forgiveness, or get help.  People assume we have to do Romans 12-16 and then we get Romans 1-11.  But the truth is just the opposite.  What God does comes first.  Only then do we respond with our offering. 

The word translated “true” as in “true worship” is literally the word “reasonable.”  Paul is saying that in light of what God’s done, it is only reasonable that we would respond in kind.  It only makes sense, now that God has offered us himself, for us to offer him ourselves.  That’s why Paul pictures the Christian life as an offering.  It’s us climbing on the altar and saying with gratitude, “Because you’ve given me yourself, I now give you myself.”

Last Sunday Larry McKenzie marked forty years of ministry at the Highland Church of Christ.  We’ll be celebrating that anniversary, along with Jim Chester’s 40^th anniversary in a few weeks.  For four decades Larry has been studying the Bible with non Christians, teaching evangelism courses, leading prayer seminars, traveling the world to do mission work and encouraging missionaries, writing articles on Christian living, visiting people in the hospital, conducting weddings and funerals, getting up early and staying up late.  He has laid himself on the altar for us for forty years.  And I’ll bet if you asked him why, he would say it’s because of what God did on his altar.  God gave himself to Larry.  Larry’s given himself back to God.

Every Sunday for the past few months two families at Highland have left the worship service about halfway through the service.  They don’t leave because they are mad.  They leave so they can conduct worship services at a nearby assisted-living facility.  They sacrifice worshiping with their friends and family here in order to lead worship for about thirty older adults who are shut-in.  I’ll bet if you asked them why, they would say it’s because of what God did on his altar.  God gave himself to them.  They are simply giving themselves back to God.

But here’s the twist: once we get on the altar, God says, “That is very pleasing.  But, I’m not going to keep you for myself.  I’m going to take you, this offering you’ve given to me, and I’m going to give it to others.”  That’s what the verses after Rom. 12:1-2 go on to describe.  Paul moves immediately into statements about how we are to serve others, help others, and support others.  This is his ultimate example of what it means to offer ourselves to God.  Paul is saying that God takes our offering of ourselves and gives it to others.  We best offer ourselves to God when we offer ourselves to others.  That’s the sum of the Christian life.

And where does all this begin?  According to Paul, it begins in baptism.  Baptism is where God’s offering and our offering come together.  Here’s what Paul writes in Rom. 6:  We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.  5 If we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly also be united with him in a resurrection like his. 6 For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin— 7 because anyone who has died has been set free from sin.   (Rom. 6:4-7 TNIV)  In baptism God’s offering—the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus—and our offering—our own death, burial, and resurrection—come together.  In baptism we both receive God’s offering and give our offering.  Just a few verses later Paul describes it in just this way: 13 Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life.  (Rom. 6:13 TNIV).  Baptism is where we receive God’s offering and where our offering begins.

This problem-free Gospel is spreading across the world.[ii]  About 315 million sub-Saharan Africans live on less than a dollar a day.  And as Africans have watched American television, they’ve learned this “Health and Wealth Gospel.”  One recent report followed a renowned preacher in Africa.  He summarized his message in this way: “[M]any are ignorant of the fact that God has already made provision for his children to be wealthy here on earth. When I say wealthy, I mean very, very rich.“   The report noted that many Christian’s in Africa have a bumper sticker on their car which says “With Jesus I will always win.”

I doubt you really buy into this-at least not all the way.  But isn’t there a part of us that figures that “If I follow Jesus, my life is going to be better”?  I mean, what good is it to follow Jesus if it’s not going to have a practical return in this life?

That issue makes this morning’s text difficult.  It’s Rom. 8:31-39.  And in this text Paul quotes from Ps. 44: For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.  If we turned in our Bibles to Ps. 44 we’d find that the people making this comment are people of faith.  According to the Psalm, its authors always remember God, they keep his commandments, and their feet have not strayed from his path.  In today’s language we’d call them salt-of-the-earth, church-going, Bible-believing, God-fearing people.  In spite of this, they are suffering.  The author pictures him and his friends as innocent sheep being slaughtered.  And back in Rom. 8:31-39 Paul quotes that Psalm to say, “Nothing’s changed.”  There are still salt-of-the-earth, church-going, Bible-believing, God-fearing people who suffer and who have problems in this life.  Paul goes on in this text to name the kinds of things that even devout people can expect: charges, condemnation, trouble, hardship, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, sword, death, life, angels, demons, present, future, powers, height, depth, and “anything else.”  Paul argues there is no such thing as “health and wealth.”  If you follow God you will not be immune from problems.  You may feel like a sheep being led to the slaughter.  It will be hard to believe “With Jesus I will always win.”

Well, we say to ourselves, at least there’s Easter.  Author Will Willimon says you can summarize the thinking of most of us regarding Easter in this way: “Jesus is raised…and now we too shall get to go to heaven.”[iii]  Yes, the good news of Easter: Jesus was raised, and now we too shall get to go to heaven.  There may be problems in this life, even for the devout.  But at least there is the afterlife.  We may feel like lambs led to slaughter but one day we’ll fly like angels.  One day, in heaven, we will truly win.

And that is part of the Easter message which Paul shares in this  text: 31 What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all-how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? 33 Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. 34 Who then can condemn? No one. Christ Jesus who died-more than that, who was raised to life-is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? 36 As it is written: “For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”  37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39 neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.   (Rom. 8:31-39 TNIV)  Paul mentions that Jesus “was raised to life” and that not even death can separate us from the love of God.  In this passage Paul gives a nod toward that Easter message which says “Jesus is raised…and now we too shall get to go to heaven.”  There are problems in life, but one day we’ll be in a place where there are no problems.  One day, in heaven, we’ll all win.

But is that the only Christian message?  Is Christianity just a faith that says, “Life is tough, and there’s nothing you can do about it.  So, sit tight.  Because eventually, when you die from all the tough things in life, you’ll get to spend eternity in heaven”?  Barbara Brown Taylor tells of a student in her Religion 101 class.  The student was comparing Christianity to other religions: “I love studying other religions,” she said, “because they have so much in them about how to live.  This is different from Christianity, which is about going to heaven when you die.“[iv]  Does Easter, does Christianity, have anything to say about living?  Or is it only about what happens after we die?  Is the only victory the final victory we get in heaven?

That question seems to be the very one Paul answers in this text.  Notice how Paul describes followers of Jesus in vs. 37.  He calls them “more than conquerors.”   We could translate the word as “super conquerors” or “super victors.”^[v]  On Sunday mornings we’ve been exploring five images the Bible uses to tell what happened on the cross.  We’ve explored the word “propitiation” and how it describes the way the cross dealt with the wrath of God.  We’ve explored the word “redemption” and how it describes the way Jesus rescued us through the cross.  Last Sunday Josh Ray talked about “reconciliation” and the way in which the cross has united us with God and with each other.  This Easter morning our focus shifts to this word “super victors.” 

Notice that Paul says we are “super victors” in all these things.”  We are not “super victors” over all these things.”  Paul doesn’t promise that if you follow Jesus you’ll become a “super victor” in that you’ll never have to deal with this tough stuff.  No.  At times, you may feel like a “super victim” following Jesus.  But even in times that make you feel like a “super victim” Paul says you are actually a “super victor.”  What does he mean?

The kind of victory Paul means is the one wrapped up in the first two verses of this text: 31 What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all-how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?  Scholars believe that these lines are the conclusion to the argument Paul’s been making in Rom. 5-8 [vi] and perhaps they are the conclusion to everything written in Rom. 1-8.[vii]  Some believe this line is a summary of the entire Christian Gospel.  The Gospel can be summarized in these words: God is for us.[viii]  Say that with me: “God is for us.  God is for us.”  Now, personalize it: “God is for me.  God is for me.”  That is fundamental message of Easter and of the cross: God is for us.  God is for me.

Some of you are just barely here this morning.  You had to drag yourself here.  You are in the midst of one of the messes mentioned in this text: charges, condemnation, trouble, hardship, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, sword, death, life, angels, demons, present, future, powers, height, depth, and “anything else.”  And now you are asking yourself one of the most foundational questions that can be asked: “Is God for me or not?  Is God on my side or not?”  Some of you are as far from that mess as you can get.  Your grades couldn’t be higher, your friendships couldn’t be richer, your boyfriend couldn’t be more sensitive, your marriage couldn’t be more fulfilling, your kids couldn’t be more obedient.  But there will come a time Paul says, when the sun won’t be so bright.  You’ll feel like a lamb led to the slaughter.  And you will wrestle with this question: “Is God for me or not?  Is God on my side or not?”

And Paul’s answer to that question is “Yes.”  God is for you.  God is for us.  Even when we feel like lambs led to the slaughter, God is for us.  Even when we have to tear off that bumper sticker that says “With Jesus I Will Always Win” God is for you.   

But how do we know?  It sounds like something easy for the preacher to say on Sunday but hard to prove on Monday.  Here is Paul’s answer: 32 He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all-how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?  Paul points to the cross.  In the ancient world a cross was a symbol of defeat.  You would not wear a cross around your neck like I do.  You would not put a cross in the middle of your worship service, like we have.  A cross was a symbol of death and defeat.  Yet Paul says that this ancient symbol of defeat is the source of our “super victory.”  How can that be?

Paul actually says two things here tied to the cross.  First, Paul says God did not spare his own Son.  When it came to backing us, when it came to being by our side, when it came to doing whatever it took to get us through the toughest stuff of life, God did not spare his own son.  I have a handful of people who are my closest friends.  And if one of them were to call me at 3 AM and tell me “I need help” I wouldn’t hesitate.  If one of them asked for money, I’d do everything I could do.  If one of them needed a place to stay, even for weeks, I’m sure we’d welcome them into our home.  But what if one of them called me at 3 AM and said, “These guys I got caught up with have taken my wife.  They say they’ll give her back, in exchange for a young boy.  Can I have your son Jacob to get my wife back?”  Would I give up Jacob up for my closest friend?  No.  But God did not spare his own Son.  As we’ve seen in this series, God gave his son as a propitiation, as a redemption, and as a means of reconciliation.  He did not spare his own son.  That’s how much he is for us.  That’s why we can know that God is for us.  The cross proves that God is for us.

Second, Paul does not simply say that God did not spare his own Son.  He says he gave him up “for us all.”  There’s a lot of people included in that “all.”  It’d be one thing for my closest friend to call and ask for my son.  But what if a coworker who got me unfairly fired called at 3 AM and said, “Is this Chris?  Listen, I know I’ve been terrible to you.  But I’m in trouble.  Can I have your son Jacob?”  Would I give up Jacob for my enemy?  I wouldn’t consider it for a second.  But with God, it is not like that.  God gave up Jesus for the insensitive comment you made to your parents but also for the man who killed those people on Lester Street.  God gave Jesus up for the kind and loving father who is addicted to pornography and the uncaring junkie addicted to drugs.  God gave Jesus up for us all.  And that’s how we can know that God is really for us.  He’s for every one of us.

Then, Paul argues from greater to lesser.  God has already shown he is for us, every one of us, by giving up Jesus for us all.  That’s the greater.  Here’s the lesser: how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?  God has already shown in the most definitive way possible that he’s for us.  He provided what we absolutely needed-a propitiation, a redemption, a reconciliation.  He gave up his son for us.  Therefore, we can know without any doubt that God will continue to provide whatever is necessary to see us through the problems listed in this text.  That’s not to say he’s going to keep trouble from coming.  But when it does come, he’s going to provide whatever is needed to see you through it. 

Even when I feel like a lamb being led to the slaughter, I can look at the cross and know two things.  First, I can know that God is for me.  Nothing that happens in my life can erase the statement God made at that cross.  God is for me.  I may not understand what he’s doing right now, or where he is right now, or why he’s allowed bad things to happen, but I can know that God is for me.  The cross is his proof of that. 

And second, I can know that he will provide everything I need to make it through this difficult time.  I may not understand how.  I may not be able to point to what he’s providing.  But I can know he is.  The cross is proof of his willingness to do whatever it takes to see me through the tough times.  And that’s what makes me, that’s what makes us all, “super victors.”

In his book, Searching for God Knows What, Donald Miller shares a story a friend battling alcoholism:  His marriage was falling apart because of his inability to stop drinking. This man is a kind and brilliant human being, touched with many gifts from God, but addicted to alcohol, and being taken down in the fight. He was suicidal, we thought, and the kids had been sent away. We sat together on his back deck and talked for hours, deep into the night. I didn’t think he was going to make it. I worried about him as I boarded my flight back to Portland, and he checked himself into rehab.  Two months later he picked me up from the same airport, having gone several weeks without a drink. As he told me the story of the beginnings of his painful recovery process, he said a single incident was giving him the strength to continue. His father had flown in to attend a recovery meeting with him, and in the meeting my friend had to confess all his issues and weaknesses. When he finished, his father stood up to address the group of addicts. He looked at his son and said, “I have never loved my son as much as I do at this moment. I love him. I want all of you to know I love him.” My friend said at that moment, for the first time in his life, he was able to believe God loved him, too. He believed if God, his father, and his wife all loved him, he could fight the addiction, and he believed he might make it.[ix]  You can make it through anything if you know someone is for you.  That’s just what God did at the cross.  When we were at our worst and our lowest, he said to us “I have never loved you as much as I do at this moment.  I love you.  I want all the world to know I love you.”  And to prove it, he planted a cross in the earth.  God is on your side.  That’s the victory of the cross. 

[ii] Isaac Phiri and Joe Maxwell, “Gospel Riches: Africa’s rapid embrace of prosperity Pentecostalism provokes concern–and hope.”  Christianity Today (July, 2007),  http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2007/july/12.22.html.

[iii] Will Willimon, “Preaching Easter in Alabama,” Journal for Preachers (31:3 Easter 2008), 3.

[iv]  Barbara Brown Taylor, “Easter Sunday 2006,” Journal for Preachers (31:3 Easter, 2008), 10.

^[v]Warren W. Wiersbe, The Bible Exposition Commentary (“An exposition of the New Testament comprising the entire ‘BE’ series”–Jkt.;Wheaton, Ill.: Victor Books, 1996, c1989), Ro 8:31.

[vi] C. E. B. Cranfield Romans: A Shorter Commentary (Eerdmans, 1992), 207.

[vii] Thomas R. Schreiner Romans Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament (Baker, 1998), 458.

[viii] C. E. B. Cranfield Romans: A Shorter Commentary (Eerdmans, 1992), 207.

[ix] Donald Miller, Searching for God Knows What (Thomas Nelson, 2004), 130-131.

I recently read of a famous kidnapping and ransom connected to Memphis.[ii]  George “Machine Gun” Kelly was an infamous gangster from the prohibition era.   He was born in Memphis where he worked for a small-time gangster.  After being arrested several times in Memphis he moved to Oklahoma City.  There he married a woman named Kathryn, a seasoned criminal.  She purchased a machine gun for George and began promoting him as “Machine Gun” Kelly.  Together they pulled off many bank robberies.  But in 1933, they decided to kidnap wealthy oil tycoon Charles Urschel.  They broke into Urschel’s house, kidnapped him, and hid him on a ranch in rural Texas.  They demanded $200,000 for his release-a large sum of money in the 1930′s.  Urschel’s family and friends, anxious to get him back, paid the ransom and Urschel was freed.  From details Urschel provided, investigators concluded he had been kidnapped by “Machine Gun” Kelly.  A nationwide hunt for Kelly began.  In September of 1933, Kelly and his wife were apprehended at a friend’s house in Memphis.  They were flown to Oklahoma, found guilty, and sentenced to life in prison.  I’ve never been kidnapped.  But if I was being held by one of the most notorious criminals of my time, I would beg for my friends and family to pay the ransom.  And I would hope they would pay whatever it cost to set me free.

Rescue.  Ransom.  Both have to do with liberating someone from harm.  Both carry the idea of the cost of that liberation.  There is a cost which firefighters potentially pay when they storm a burning home to rescue an unconscious woman.  There was a price which Charles Urschel’s family paid to ransom him from that gangster.

These ideas of rescue and ransom are found in the biblical word “redemption” or “redeem.”  On Sunday mornings, as part of the Cross Examination series we are exploring images which the Bible uses to picture what took place on the cross.  Last week we explored the word “propitiation” and saw through that word how the cross deals with the wrath of God.  This morning we focus on the word “redemption” or “redeem.” 

People who knew nothing about the Bible used this word in the ancient world.  It was used to describe the price paid to free a slave.  Someone was a slave, and in order to be rescued or ransomed or redeemed from his enslavement, a price could paid.[iii]  That money would pay for his release.  He would be redeemed.

The word not only had roots in the secular culture, it also had roots in the Old Testament.  “Redeem” was used to describe what God did when he delivered the slaves in Egypt: Deut. 7:8: But it was because the LORD loved you and kept the oath he swore to your ancestors that he brought you out with a mighty hand and redeemed you from the land of slavery from the power of Pharaoh king of Egypt.  God redeemed Israel from Egypt.  That is, he rescued them from Egypt.  In the Old Testament the word “redeem” carried the idea of liberation and the cost of that liberation.[iv]   To be redeemed is to be rescued or ransomed at great cost.

But most of us, I suspect, don’t feel like we need rescue or ransom.  You probably didn’t wake up in a burning house this morning begging for a firefighter to rescue you.  You probably didn’t just get released from a kidnapper to whom loved ones gave a ransom.  Most of us don’t seem to need rescue or ransom.  Yet, upon further reflection, perhaps we do.

A few years ago the New York University Child Study Center ran an ad campaign. [v]They wanted to highlight mental illnesses among children.  The Center felt that millions of children in the United States are being held hostage by mental illnesses and no one seems to care.  So, in order to draw attention to this hidden reality, the Center ran an ad campaign consisting of ransom notes highlighting autism, Asperger’s Syndrome; ADHD, obsessive compulsive disorder, depression and bulimia.  Here are some of the ransom notes:

We have your son. We are destroying his ability for social interaction and driving him into a life of complete isolation. It’s up to you now…Asperger’s Syndrome

We have taken your son. We have imprisoned him in a maze of darkness with no hope of ever getting out. Do nothing and see what happens…Depression

The ads were so controversial that the Center pulled them.  But they are a shocking reminder that there are invisible captors which enslave us, though we may not even notice.

Peter gets at this with his use of the word “redeem” in 1 Pet. 1:18-19: 18 For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your ancestors, 19 but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect.  Peter says that we’ve been redeemed.  We’ve been rescued and ransomed.  From what?  From “the empty way of life handed down to you from your ancestors.“  It’s not a gangster who has kidnapped us.  It’s not a fire which has endangered us.  It’s “the empty way of life” from which Jesus rescued us.  What is this empty way of life?

When we explore Peter’s letter we see at least three portraits which explain the “empty way of life” Peter may have in mind. 

• First, in 2:10 Peter describes his readers as once “not a people.” Now, however, they “are the people of God.” They were living a life in which there was no real sense of acceptance, no sense of community, no reality of belonging to a group or a people that mattered. The “empty way of life” Peter mentions may include this. We need rescue from our loneliness.
• Second, in 2:11 Peter describes “sinful desires” which “war against your soul.” This seems related to the idea raised in 1:14 where Peter mentions “evil desires” to which we conform. That word “conform” means “to shape” or “to mold.” Our own passions and desires can shape us and mold us into people we don’t want to be. We can become enslaved by our own passions and desires.[vi] Here in 2:11 Peter says these passions can wage war against us. The “empty way of life” Peter mentions may include this. We need rescue from our longings.
• Third, in 5:8 Peter describes the devil who “prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.” There is a dark and personal force who is working against us, trying to hold us captive. We need rescue from the lion. Can you see how there is a sense in which we are held captive, in which we are in danger, even from things we cannot see?

Thomas Costain’s book The Three Edwards describes the life of Raynald III, a 14th-century duke.[vii]  He was very overweight.  After a quarrel, Raynald’s younger brother Edward led a revolt against Raynald. Edward captured Raynald, but did not kill him. Instead, he built a room around Raynald and promised Raynald could leave the room whenever he wished. The room had several windows and a door of near-normal size-none of which were locked or barred. The problem was Raynald’s size. To regain his freedom, he needed to lose weight so he would fit through the door.  But each day Edward sent a variety of delicious foods into the room. Instead of dieting his way out of prison, Raynald grew fatter. He stayed in that room for 10 years. He was a prisoner of his physical longings.  Have you ever felt that way-trapped by your own passions?  Your own hungers?  I recently read that some 30 million Americans are addicted to pornography.[viii]  I listened last Wednesday night as one our teens shared his own testimony of being addicted to porn.  Ask these people.  I’m sure they can tell you they feel enslaved.  We need rescue from our longings.

I’ve known Charlene for over five years.  She used to live close to the University of Memphis.  Charlene contacted me one day because she was being attacked by the Devil.  It was as real to her as being attacked by a mugger.  She was frantic.  We met for months praying together and studying Scripture together.  Eventually I baptized her.  She grasped at anything that could help her escape the Devil.  I’ll bet some of you can sympathize.  Some of you have had experiences in which you discerned the presence of a dark force working against you-trying to destroy your marriage or your children.  We need rescue from the lion.

And what about this issue raised by Peter about not being a people, not belonging?  Loneliness can be a prison of its own.  Author John Ortberg reveals this in a humorous way. [ix]   He recalls a plane trip.  The first-class passengers were served gourmet food on china and crystal.  Ortberg and the others in coach ate snacks in paper bags.  The first-class passengers had room to stretch and sleep.  Those in coach, he writes, “were sitting with a proximity usually reserved for engaged couples in the back row of a movie.”  On that flight there is a curtain drawn to separate first class from coach.  Ortberg writes that “It is not to be violated; it is like the Berlin Wall or the veil that separated the Court of the Gentiles from the Holy of Holies in the temple at Jerusalem. The curtain is a reminder throughout the flight that some people are first class and some aren’t. Those who aren’t first class are not to violate the boundary.”  Even something as simple as a plane ride reminds us that we are isolated.  We do not belong.  And for those who are genuinely rejected in life, there is no greater prison than isolation.  We need rescue from our loneliness.

I’d say there are a lot of us needing rescue and ransom today.  Wouldn’t you?  Who knows how many of us here this morning are being held captive by a longing they cannot seem to escape?  Who knows how many of us are enslaved by the fear of, if not an attack by, the lion.  Who knows how many of us this very day feel trapped in our loneliness?  Yes, we are in need of rescue.  We are in need of ransom.  We need to be redeemed.

And the good news of Scripture is this: Jesus came to redeem you.  Jesus came to rescue you.  Jesus came to ransom you.  Jesus himself says in Mk. 10:45 For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.  He came to ransom you from that longing that has kidnapped you, that lion that has enslaved you and that loneliness that imprisons you.

And he was willing to pay the ultimate price to do so.  Earlier this year there was a report regarding the cost of search and rescue in New Hampshire.[x]  The Fish and Game Department in New Hampshire was rescuing stranded hikers and the like so frequently that they were running out of money.  They asked the legislature to change the law so that they could bill the people they rescued.  It’s not that they don’t want to rescue more.  It’s that they can’t afford to do it.

But Jesus, Peter says, was willing to pay the greatest price to rescue us: 18 For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your ancestors, 19 but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect.  (1 Pet. 1:18-19 TNIV).  It didn’t cost Jesus silver and gold.  It cost his life.  He was willing to pay a ransom of blood. 

You may have seen the recent story about seven-year-old Alexis Goggins from Detroit.[xi]   Alexis and her mother were passengers in a friend’s SUV.  Then the mother’s former boyfriend approached the SUV with a gun.  He had come, apparently, to shoot Alexis’ mother.  But just as the gunman was about to fire, seven- year-old Alexis screamed “Don’t hurt my mother!” and threw herself in between the gun and her mother.  Six bullets tore into her body, one blinding her right eye.  Thankfully, Alexis survived, though is enduring months of therapy.  She paid a high price to rescue her mother.

And Jesus, Peter said, paid an even higher price: 18 For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your ancestors, 19 but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect.  (1 Pet. 1:18-19 TNIV).  Jesus came to free you from those longings, that lion, and that loneliness.  It was a rescue that cost him his life.

And that rescue changes the way we live.  You can bet that woman taken from her burning home recently will live with gratitude for the rest of her life.  You can be that man ransomed from “Machine Gun” Kelley had a new attitude about life when he walked to freedom.  Notice the word “for” in 1 Pet. 1:18  18 For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your ancestors, 19 but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect.  (1 Pet. 1:18-19 TNIV).  The word “for” means this thought is connected to the one just before it.  And what is that thought?  Since you call on a Father who judges each person’s work impartially, live out your time as foreigners here in reverent fear (1 Pet. 1:17)  We don’t have time to explore this in depth.  But in general Peter is saying that because you have been rescued at such a high price, live a life of reverence and respect for the one who rescued you.

The 1998 film “Saving Private Ryan” tells how Captain Miller and his men rescue young Private Ryan in the midst of D-Day and the storming of the beaches at Normandy.[xii]  In the end, many of Miller’s men and Miller himself sacrifice their lives to rescue Private Ryan.  There is a scene at the end of the movie where Private Ryan faces Miller.  Miller is dying from the rescue.  With his last breath he tells Private Ryan, “Earn this.  Earn it.”  The scene then moves forward in time.  Private Ryan, now old, stands amidst the crosses planted at Normandy.  Ryan faces the cross of Captain Miller.  He reflects upon his life.  He reflects upon the price paid for his freedom.  Like the film, the Christian message is that someone rescued us at the cost of his own life.  Like the film, the Christian message is that this costly rescue ought to impact how we live.  But unlike the film, the Christian message is not “Earn this.  Earn it.”  We can’t.  We can’t earn the rescue we’ve been given.  All we can do is live with joy and reverence for the one who gave his life to ransom ours.

[ii] http://www.alcatrazhistory.com/mgk.htm

[iii] Thomas Schreiner Romans Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament (Baker, 1998), 190.

[iv] Thomas Schreiner Romans Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament (Baker, 1998), 190.

[v] http://www.reuters.com/article/pressRelease/idUS197230+03-Dec-2007+BW20071203

[vi] James Thompson The Church in Exile (ACU Press, 1990), 30-32.

[vii] Thomas Costain, The Three Edwards (Buccaneer Books, 1994).

[viii] Timothy C. Morgan, “Porn’s Stranglehold,” Christianity Today (March, 2008), 7 commenting on the article byJohn W. Kennedy “Help for the Sexually Desperate,” Christianity Today (March, 2008), 28-35.

[ix] John Ortberg, Everybody’s Normal Till You Get To Know Them (Zondervan, 2003).

[x] Law Would Make It Easier To Recoup Rescue Costs: State Spends Thousands To Rescue Stranded Hikers, (2/19/08), http://www.wmur.com/news/15346173/detail.html.

[xi] Corey Williams, “Healing from shooting, ‘Angel’ in therapy” The Commercial Appeal (2/21/08), A2.

[xii] “Saving Private Ryan” starring Tom Hanks, directed by Stephen Spielberg, Dreamworks, 1998, rated R.

Who will bring any charge against [us]?  Who then can condemn?  Paul asks these two questions in Rom. 8—a text which was our focus last Sunday and will again be our focus this morning.  Who will bring any charge against [us]?  Who then can condemn?

These are relevant questions because there’s a lot of charging and condemning these days.  At an international level we’ve got Israeli’s condemning Palestinians and Palestinians condemning Israeli’s.  At a national level we’ve got conservatives condemning liberals and liberals condemning conservatives.  At a local level we hear suburbanites condemned for neglecting the city and urbanites charged with elitism. 

But some of us experience this on a personal level, don’t we?  We get condemned or charged simply because of who we are.  A friend of mine is a principal in a school.  Recently he’s had to deal with an employee who isn’t performing.  But my friend is white and the employee is black and she’s charging my friend with racism.  The only reason he’s critiquing her performance—she believes—is because he’s white.  If he were a different race, there likely wouldn’t be such conflict.  But simply because of who he is there’s a lot charging and condemning going on.

Many of us experience this kind of condemning and charging.  Being labeled or mistreated just because we’re not like the “in crowd,” or because of our race, or our background, or our gender.  I remember when Kendra worked for a major company.  She was a trained accountant but the managers treated her and other women as inferior.  That’s the kind of charge and condemnation a lot of us face.

And there was some of that going on in the lives of those to whom Paul wrote.  The city of Rome and the church in it had just emerged from great upheaval.  The Roman emperor, Claudius, expelled all Jews from Rome in A. D. 49.  This included Jewish Christians as well as other Jews.  As a result, the church in Rome found itself filled only with Gentile Christians.  Five years later, Claudius was dead, Nero was emperor, and the Jews and Jewish Christians were allowed back in Rome.  But the Jewish Christians found that things at church had changed—much to their dismay.  Based on what Paul writes in Rom. 9-11 and Rom. 14-15 it seems that the newly arrived Jewish Christians were writing nasty emails to the elders about the way these Gentile Christians were running things.  There was a lot of charging and condemning going on.

And partly in response to that, Paul writes these words^[i]: 

What, then, shall we say in response to these things?  If God is for us, who can be against us?  He

who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?  Who will bring any charge against those who God has chosen?  It is God who justifies.  Who then can condemn?  No one.  Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. (Rom. 8:31-34 TNIV). 

We spent time in 8:37 last Sunday on the words “more than conquerors.”  This morning I’d like us to dwell on another word in this text.  It’s found in 8:33—“justifies.”  Most of the words we’ve explored over the past few Sundays come from a specific area of ancient life.  “Propitiation” came from the world of worship.  “Redemption” came from the slave-market.  “Reconciliation” came from the world of family and friends.  And this word—“justifies”—comes from the courtroom.  In the ancient world, the word “justifies” described what a judge did.  Two parties in a dispute would come before the judge.  He would hear the accuser and the defendant.  Then he would render a judgment.  He would find in favor of one party.  And the party he found in favor of would be described as “justified”—having a right standing in that court.[ii]  “Justified” is the opposite of “condemned.”[iii]  “Justified” is the judge saying, “This court finds in your favor.” 

And according to Paul, who does the ultimate justifying in life?  God does.  He writes It is God who justifies.  That is, who renders the ultimate verdict on us in the court of life?  God does.  It is God who justifies.  This line seems to be written in recognition of those Jewish Christians being labeled traditionalists by the Gentile Christians.  It seems to appear out of acknowledgment of the Gentile Christians who are being charged with liberal practices in the church.  Paul is saying, “What matters more—what the worshiper in the pew thinks of you or what God thinks of you?  The label someone has put on you during a service or the label God has put on you?”  It is God who justifies.

This line is a nod toward those of us who face charges and condemnations because of who we are—because we’re a different race or gender; because we didn’t grow up where everyone else did; because of our physical looks; because our worship is more traditional than theirs or more contemporary than theirs.  Paul wants us to consider: “Who renders the ultimate verdict on you in the court of life?  Not your teacher or your parents.  Not your kids or your managers.  Not the church down the street.  God does.”  “What matters more—what the cool kids think about you or what God thinks about you?  The label placed on you by your parents or by God?  How you appear in the eyes of your kids or the eyes of God?”  It is God who justifies.  The only verdict about you that matters is God’s.

And what is God’s verdict?  It is summarized in one word from 8:33: Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen?  God’s verdict is found in that word “chosen.”  Your kids may say “Our court finds you old-fashioned and out of touch.”  Your parents may say “Our court finds you irresponsible and lazy.”  Some may say “My court finds you too black, too Hispanic, too suburban, too urban, too Democratic, too Republican, too traditional, or too contemporary.”  But God says “My court finds you chosen.  I have chosen you.”  That’s the only verdict that matters.

But there’s more going on with these two questions: Who will bring any charge against [us]?  Who then can condemn?  Ultimately these questions are asked in light of what Paul wrote earlier in Rom. 3:9, 22-23: Jews and Gentiles alike are under the power of sin…There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.  The larger reality is that there are some charges leveled at us that stick.  Not the kind of charges and condemnations that come just because of who we are.  But those that come because of what we’ve done.  As we’ve seen in this series on the cross, there are charges against all of us that stick.   We all have done things that contribute to the injustice in the world.  We all have done things which have made God wrathful.  We all have gotten caught up in longings that enslave us.  We all have been part of breaking relationship with others. 

And as a result, God himself can bring charges against us.  God has every right to call a trial and say “My court finds you guilty of gossiping about people you say are your friends; My court finds you guilty of neglecting your aging parents; My court finds you guilty of thinking your neighbor is inferior to you.”  Paul is saying that God himself has charges he can level.

In addition, the Devil has charges to level.  Here is how the Devil is described in Rev. 12:10: the accuser of our brothers and sisters, who accuses them before our God day and night.  The Devil is the zealous prosecutor who appears in court, God at the bench, us at the defendant’s table, and he lays charge after charge against us.  And the worst part is they are true.  Every one of them.  They stick.

And sometimes, we even condemn ourselves.^[iv]   We charge ourselves.  We replay in our minds again and again the wrong words we said and the wrong things we did, and we charge ourselves. 

Who will bring any charge against us?  Who then condemn?  God can.  The devil can.  And even we ourselves can.

And the question is, What do we do about those charges?  A recent cartoon shows two men sitting amidst flames.  On a nearby hill is a figure with a pitchfork—the Devil.  And the one man says to the other: I was under the impression that what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas.  The cartoon’s saying that what happens in secret doesn’t stay secret.  Eventually it makes its way out.  The Devil learns of it.  God learns about it.  And the question is, What do we do about these actions that are the basis for the charges we level against ourselves and which the Devil levels against us and which God himself could charge us with?

A recent article about the Internet told of a twenty-five year old man named John hoping to land a job on Wall Street.[v]  Knowing prospective employers would do so, John “Googled” his name.  To “Google” yourself means to pull up the Internet search engine called “Google” and type your name in the search box.  Google will pull up virtually every reference to you posted on the Internet—by your or by others.  Articles, blogs, videos, pictures—all about you.  John “Googled” his name knowing that prospective employers would also do so.  And right there at the top of the results page was an old campus news blog detailing a bar brawl in which John was arrested.  It was five years old.  But it was the first piece of information which came up.  He knew it destroyed his chance of getting a job.  The Internet is becoming a record of many of our actions and activities—even those we never intended to be made public.  And companies are emerging to help people manage their “online reputations.”  Several companies—for a fee—can manipulate data on the Internet so that bad things like a bar brawl don’t show up on your first couple of search results pages.  But these charges against us are piling up even online.  And the question is, What do we do about them?

That’s the question Paul answers: What, then, shall we say in response to these things?  If God is for us, who can be against us?  He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?  Who will bring any charge against those who God has chosen?  It is God who justifies.  Who then can condemn?  No one.  Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. (Rom. 8:31-34 TNIV).  Notice that the central image here is the cross—He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all.  And according to Paul, what happened on the cross?  God justified us.  The cross turned the courtroom of life upside down.  Into that courtroom walk us—people who are guilty; people who have committed crimes.  In walks the Devil, that prosecuting attorney bent on shedding as much light on our guilt as possible.  At the bench sits God, the judge.  And after the Devil makes his case—a very true case—he fires up the laptop and does an enhanced Google search of our name and pulls up text and video of every angry word we’ve ever spoken, every pornographic photo we’ve every looked at, every racist comment we’ve ever thought, every environment harming action we’ve ever taken, and every plea for help we’ve ignored.  It’s all there.  On a big flat-screen monitor.  But what happens next boggles the imagination: God justifies us.  God says, “In light of this evidence, my court finds you…innocent.”  It’s the strangest twist of justice.  God justifies us.

How can God do this?  It all has to do with the cross.  Here is how Paul puts it in 2 Cor. 5:21 – God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.  Peter puts it this way: “He himself bore our sins” in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; “by his wounds you have been healed.” (1 Pet. 2:24 TNIV).   At the cross God declared us who are guilty to be innocent.  And he declared Jesus who was innocent to be guilty.  How?  Because on the cross Jesus took not just the punishment for our sins, but the sins themselves.  God made him our sin.  And at the cross, God did not simply forgive our sins.  He gave us the righteousness, the right-standing, of Jesus.  Our guilt became his.  His innocence became ours.

But it’s not simply an exchange of guilt from one person to another and of innocence from one person to another.  At the cross, for those of us willing to ask for it by faith, Jesus and we become one.[vi]  Paul says in 2 Cor. 5:14 that when Jesus died, we all died.  Paul writes in Rom. 6 that we are baptized into Christ.  So, when I come in faith to the cross, God makes me and Jesus one.  There is no longer Jesus and Chris.  There is Jesus-Chris—a new entity.  And my crimes are thus literally Jesus’.  His innocence is literally mine.  As a result, God is able to look at me and say, “This court finds you…innocent.”  God is able to justify me. 

Every day you drag yourself off to court, condemning yourself for that website you surfed to, or that comment you made.  Every day the Devil drags you off the court ready to make a case against you for the way you’ve used your wealth for yourself and not for the poor.  But every day, as you present the charges before God, as the Devil presents his condemnation, Jesus rises and says, “Your honor, I must object.  My client has already been tried for these crimes.  He’s already been found innocent.  I’ve already been found guilty.”  God justifies us.

Alfred Dreyfus was a Jewish officer in the French Army.[vii]  In 1894 he was arrested and charged with spying for Germany.  He was innocent.  But a court found him guilty and sentenced him to life in prison.  Family, friends, and cultural leaders challenged the court’s findings.  But it wasn’t until 1889, five years later, that Dreyfus was given a new trial.  Anti-Jewish feelings were high at this time.  As a result, Dreyfus, a Jewish officer, did not receive a fair trial.  He was found guilty again.  In 1906, 12 years after his first arrest, his case was reviewed.  Dreyfus was declared innocent.  There is nothing more terrifying and life-altering than being declared guilty, all the while being innocent.  But there is nothing more unbelievable and joy-giving than being declared innocent, your guilt having been taken by someone else.  That’s justification.

 “The Matrix” is a science fiction movie which uses Christian imagery.[i]  In the film, most of the people on earth are blind to a terrible evil oppressing them.  A living computer has enslaved every human on earth.  But it keeps humans in a virtual world where everything seems normal.  One character named Morpheus is a prophet who tries to wake others to the shocking reality of their enslavement.  In one scene Morpheus meets with a man named Neo.  He explains to Neo that something is wrong with the world: “Let me tell you why you are here.  You are here because you know something.  What you know you can’t explain.  But you feel it.  You’ve felt it your entire life.  That there is something wrong in the world.  You don’t know what it is.  But it’s there.  Like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad.  It is this feeling that has brought you to me.  Do you know what I’m talking about?”  

Morpheus explains to Neo: “There is something wrong in the world.”

In Rom. 1-3 Paul makes a similar speech.  Paul writes that the world is filled with “wickedness, evil, greed and depravity” and “envy, murder, strife, deceit and malice” (Rom. 1:29 TNIV).  In Rom. 1 he writes to those who don’t worship the Christian God.  In Rom. 2 he writes to those who do worship God.  And to both, Paul writes, there is something wrong in the world.

There are times when we wake to this reality, aren’t there?   

·        It may be when we turn on the local news and there is a string of stories—a child abused by a stranger or a homeowner killed by an intruder—and we think, “What a messed up city.” 

·        It may be when we are at school and a girlfriend breaks up with us or an administrator turns down our request for financial aid, and we are filled with a sense that the world isn’t fair. 

·        It may be when we travel abroad and see a family living in a cardboard hut or children sleeping in the street and we wonder how the world could be so cruel.  There is something wrong with the world.

And in Rom. 1-3 Paul uses one word to describe the God’s reaction to this.  The word is “wrath.”: The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of human beings who suppress the truth by their wickedness (Rom. 1:18 TNIV).  The Christian message is that God sees what’s wrong with the world.  And his response is wrath. 

At one level, God’s response is the same as ours.  In February of 1968 sanitation workers in Memphis went on strike.  The workers were being paid at near poverty level, had no health benefits, and worked in filthy conditions.[ii] Something was terribly wrong and the administration refused to fix it.  People were filled with wrath as a result.  And so on March 28 Dr. Martin Luther King led 6,000 protesters on a march through Memphis.  There are times when we see the wickedness of the world and we get upset.  That’s wrath.  That’s God’s response.

But it turns out there’s more wrong with the world than we first realize.  In “The Matrix” the evil came from the computers.  The humans were all just victims.  And we’d like to think that’s how it is in our world.  There’s a lot wrong with the world.  And it’s all “their” fault.  It’s all the fault of the selfish politicians and the corrupt governments.  We are just the victims.  But the point Paul wants to make is that it’s also our fault.

Paul puts it this way in Rom. 3:22-23 – There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, for all have sinned…  In Rom. 1 he writes to Gentiles—people who do not worship the Christian God.  In Rom. 2 he writes to Jews—people devoted to God.  And he concludes: there is no difference.  Both contribute to the wrong that’s in the world.

And that’s one of the hardest things to swallow about the Christian message.  When we wake up to the reality that something is wrong with the world, we want to lay the blame on others.  But Paul states that we have to lay some of the blame at our own feet.  The ongoing discussion about global warming illustrates this.  Human actions are impacting the climate.  And we’d like to lay the blame at the industrial factories that release ozone eating chemicals and the manufacturers who keep producing gas guzzling cars.  But each of us is also part of the problem.  When I leave my computer on overnight or toss recyclable goods away, I contribute to global warming.  Those little actions are part of the bigger evil of climate change.  The same thing is true with our “little” mistakes and failures and sins.  When you turn down an employee’s request out of spite or turn on the TV rather than call that hurting friend, you become part of what’s wrong with the world.  Those actions, multiplied billions of times by the billions who live on the planet and who do these very things, are part of what’s made things so wrong with the world.

And what is God’s response?  Once again, Paul says it’s wrath.  In Rom. 1, writing to Gentiles, Paul tells them The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of human beings…(1:18)  And, in Rom. 2, writing to Jews Paul tells But because of your stubbornness and your unrepentant heart, you are storing up wrath against yourself for the day of God’s wrath when his righteous judgment will be revealed (2:5).  It turns out that even our seemingly “small” sins cause God to respond with “wrath.”

That’s something we don’t like to hear.  But what’s worse: a God who gets angry at what’s wrong with the world—even at what we’ve done; or a God who sees what’s wrong with the world and smiles anyway?  We may not like the idea that God is angry at the role each of us has played in making the world an unjust place.  But wouldn’t it be worse to believe that God sees this injustice and doesn’t get upset?  We wouldn’t want a mayor who doesn’t get upset about the crime in our city.  We wouldn’t want a parent who doesn’t get angry at something that happens to his child.  A few weeks ago I saw someone mistreat my son Jacob.  It was during a basketball game.  We let every player on the team shoot during the game.  It was Jacob’s turn to shoot the ball.  So I told our player with the ball to pass the ball to Jacob so Jacob could shoot.  The boy with the ball looked at me, looked at Jacob, and then shot.  And I got mad.  Parents are supposed to get upset when something wrong happens to their child.  I’m not sure we’d want a God who isn’t moved by what’s wrong with the world—even if it means I’m part of the problem.

But does all this just make God out to be some angry deity bent on judgment?  A 1993 film called “Tombstone” told how Wyatt Earp retired to Tombstone, Arizona.[iii]  The city was filled with lawlessness.  And eventually it so frustrated Earp that he came out of retirement.  He began to protect the citizens against the outlaws.  Those same outlaws then tried to kill Earp’s family.  Earp’s wrath grew.  In one scene Wyatt and his brothers take their families to the train so they can travel safely away while the brothers bring the outlaws to justice.  Earp catches one of the outlaws trying to attack the family.  Enraged, Earp points his gun at the outlaw and tells him to run back to the gang.  Earp screams at him: “You tell ‘em I’m coming.  And [judgment’s] coming with me.  You hear?  [Judgment’s] coming with me!”  Is that the picture the Bible wants us to have of God?  We can understand why he’d be angry.  There’s so much wrong in the world.  But is that all the Bible has to say?  What do we do with this wrath?

The Bible uses one word to describe what we do.  It’s a word translated in the old King James Version as “propitiation.”  In many of our Bibles it is translated as “atonement” or “sacrifice of atonement.”  The word is “propitiation.”  The way we deal with wrath is wrapped up in the word “propitiation.”    

This morning we begin a new series called Cross Examination.  In this series we are going to explore five images the Bible uses to describe what happened on the cross.  And this morning we’re exploring an image which comes from the word “propitiation.”  The King James Version translates Paul’s words in Rom. 3:25 Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood.   Here’s how the TNIV puts it: God presented Christ as a sacrifice of atonement, through the shedding of his blood.  In the ancient world, this word “propitiation” described a how a pagan worshiper dealt with the wrath of the gods.  The god, who was angry at what something the worshiper had done, was about to unleash his wrath.  Thus the worshiper would offer some kind of sacrifice to appease the angry god.  The sacrifice “made up” for what the worshiper had done wrong.   It was a gift intended to turn aside that god’s wrath.^[iv]

But what do we offer the Christian God to make up for what’s wrong in the world?  What kind of offering could we present to God that would make up for the human rights violations in China or the materialism of American culture?  What kind of gift could we offer to appease the way that God is angry at how we spoke to our spouse this morning, or the way we treated that classmate last week?  Is there really anything we could do to resolve that anger? 

The Bible’s message is “No.”  We don’t have a gift big enough to appease God’s righteous indignation.  So, God does what we cannot do: Rom. 3:25–God presented Christ as a sacrifice of atonement, through the shedding of his blood.  Who does the propitiating here?  It’s not us.  It’s God.  God presents his own gift of propitiation.  It’s not a merciful Jesus stepping in between us and a wrathful God.  It’s not that God has cocked his rifle and squeezed the trigger at us and Jesus steps into that bullet, leaving God with a shocked expression.  God is filled with frustration at all that’s wrong with the world.  But he’s also filled with an inexplicable love for us.  And out of that love, he presents Jesus as a propitiation. 

But what about Jesus?  Is Jesus being dragged kicking into this equation?  No.  John uses the same word “propitiation” in 1 Jn. 2:1-2: My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin.  But if anybody does sin, we have an advocate with the Father—Jesus Christ, the Righteous One.  He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world.  The words “atoning sacrifice” can be translated “propitiation.” Paul says that God presented Jesus as this anger-resolving gift.  John suggests that Jesus offered himself—he was an advocate for us.  John writes in 1 Jn. 4:10  This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.  The words “atoning sacrifice” can be translated “propitiation.”  God was frustrated, and rightly so, at all that’s wrong in the world.  At the same time he was deeply in love with us.  So, he and Jesus provided a gift that would turn aside his wrath—the gift of his only son.

This kind of propitiation is very hard to get our minds around.  Even the Bible strains to explain it.  And that’s why, I think, the Bible ultimately settled on a poetic image.  Both Old and New Testaments ultimately rely on a poetic image to make sense of God’s wrath and the way in which the gift of his son dealt with that wrath.  It’s the image of a cup.  The image is found in the book of Revelation in 16:19: God remembered Babylon the Great and gave her the cup filled with the wine of the fury of his wrath.  The same image is used earlier in Jer. 25:15: This is what the LORD, the God of Israel, said to me: “Take from my hand this cup filled with the wine of my wrath and make all the nations to whom I send you drink it.  This same cup seems to be the focus of Jesus’ words in Matt. 26:38-42: “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.  Stay here and keep watch with me.”  Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me.  Yet not as I will, but as you will.”…He went away a second time and prayed, “My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.”

The poets of the Bible imagine that as God sees the neglect of the poor in the United States, and the suffering in Myanmar, and the things we do wrong every day, his anger takes the shape of a cluster of grapes.  The skin is tight, barely able to contain the bitter and poisonous juice of wrath within.  With every corrupt regime, and every war, and every political scandal the clusters grow larger and the juice within becomes darker.  And as we cheat a customer, or fudge numbers of a spreadsheet, or betray our spouse with a lustful computer site, that cluster grows larger and darker.

Then God takes all of those grapes and he squeezes them.  Down his hand runs the burning, smoking, poisonous indignation which has been building from Adam and Eve’s dishonesty in the garden up until this very day.  And it drips into a goblet.  God squeezes every last grape and rids them of every last drop.  The cup is filled with this juice that symbolizes his wrath at all that’s wrong in the world. 

And if you were to taste that wine with just the tip of your tongue, it would kill you.  And there have been times in history when God has forced an unjust nation or a corrupt ruler to do just that.  He forced them to drink from this cup.  And the consequences were deadly. 

But God cannot bring himself to put the cup to our lips.  The cup’s contents must be consumed.  But God cannot bring himself to touch it to our lips.  And neither can the son.  They love us too much.  And so in a shared move, the Father hands the cup to the son and the son takes the cup from the Father.  It is not an easy move.  Even as the son takes the cup he begs for the Father to find some other way, to let the cup be taken from him.  But their compassion for us outweighs everything else. 

And the son lifts the cup to his lips and drinks.  It is such a large cup filled with liquid so hard to consume that it takes the son six hours to finish.  For six hours he hangs on that cross.  He drinks the cup of the wine of God’s wrath.  He drinks down the ounces that were grown from the things you have done in secret.  He drinks down the ounces grown from the atrocities committed in human history—the Holocaust, the Cambodian deaths under the Khmer Rouge, and the slavery of humans in America.  He drinks down that wrath.  And he dies.  He becomes the propitiation.